


a dream aloud

by CloudCover (RainyForecast)



Series: Hockey RPF Tumblr Prompts [24]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: 5 Headcanons Prompt, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Fluff, Hockey Player!Sid, M/M, baker!Geno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 15:56:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14108889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainyForecast/pseuds/CloudCover
Summary: “So, you’re a hockey fan, eh?” Sidney Crosby says to him, prompting a muttered “For fuck’s sake, Sid” from Letang.Anonymous asked:Sugar baby auSo I’m personally not into the sugar baby thing?  So I really hope you’ll forgive me for going a bit rogue on this one. A….bit.





	a dream aloud

1.Zhenya doesn’t know enough about North American idioms when he first comes to the US to fully realize the extent of Sasha’s stupidity. It isn’t until he comments on the curious amount of alarmingly flirtatious older women who come into the bakery that Seryozha takes pity on him and explains exactly what “Sugar Babies” usually means. Sasha is terrible and should never have been allowed to name so much as a goldfish, much less the business he and Zhenya run together. It’s things like this that renew Zhenya’s relief at mostly working in the back. He likes cakes and pastries more than he does most people.

 

2.After the Pens win the 2016 Cup, Zhenya is so inspired that he creates a display cake for the bakery window. It’s quite frankly one of his best. It has an explosion of sugar work that look like shards of shattered ice and a figure of Sidney Crosby hoisting the Cup on top that took ages to sculpt. But it looks good, right down to the playoff scruff Zhenya painted on with his tiniest brush. He also molded perfect replicas of the entire team’s jersey numbers to circle the tiers, peeking through the sugar work. It gets noticed, of course, racking up shares and likes on social media and even getting featured on the Pens website. It’s all just good publicity and a chance to promote the business until Sasha bursts into the bakery with a manic look in his eye and tells Zhenya that the Penguins organization has asked them to provide a cake for the ring ceremony dinner in October. Zhenya yells so loudly that Zac drops an entire armload of baking pans in shock.

 

3\. Zhenya sketches designs for the Pens cake all summer. He begins some of the decorations a week before the actual event. It’s maybe the best work he’s ever done. And the coolest part? He gets to go to the event because the finishing touches will need to be applied there. He’s going to be in the back with catering but still! A couple of rooms away from some of the greatest hockey players in the world. The greatest, in his opinion. A couple of rooms away from Sidney fucking Crosby.

 

4\. Zhenya gets to peer around the corner when his cake is wheeled out, and it gets actual applause. He can just see a few people’s faces and he revels in watching them light up as they look at what he made. He can’t see Sidney Crosby though, and he tries to tamp down a little frisson of disappointment as he goes to pack his tools away.

 

5\. “Ah, through here,” he hears someone say, and a group of people walk into the kitchen space where he’s cleaning up. “And there he is. Evgeni!” He looks up at the sound of his name, to see the coordinator for the event, who he’d met before, accompanied by—

There are at least four hockey players poking with interest at Zhenya’s tools and asking him questions, but he only has eyes for Sidney Crosby. He’s right there, in front of Zhenya, reaching out to shake his hand and compliment his craftsmanship. Who’s smiling at him, cheeks a little pink from the champagne he’d undoubtedly been drinking. “So, you’re a hockey fan, eh?” Sidney Crosby says to him, prompting a muttered “For fuck’s sake, Sid” from Letang.

“Yeah, ever since little,” Zhenya says, unable to tear his eyes away from him. He’s…leaning a hip against Zhenya’s work table and is kind of blinking up at him in a way that on any other person would come off as—  

“Yo, Captain Heart-Eyes,” Nick Bonino says. “We’re gonna head back. Ask him for his number already and get on with it.” They leave in a noisy bro-herd, leaving Sidney, who has gone from pink to red and is fidgeting with one of Zhenya’s tools. He isn’t looking at Zhenya and Zhenya is kind of waiting for the explanation of how his friends like to joke around, et cetera, when Sid looks up, hazel eyes big and nervous looking. Nervous. Sidney fucking Crosby. “Um,” He says. “Do you, uh. Would you want to get dinner with me? Sometime.” Zhenya can’t believe it.

“As friends or, is date?” Zhenya asks.

“A date,” Sidney clarifies, and Zhenya wonders if maybe he’s died or is hallucinating.

“Would be my pleasure,” he says, and he’s close enough to see the way Sidney shivers and how his pupils blow wide at the sound of it.

“For sure?” Sidney says. “Sweet.” Then winces at his unintentional pun. Zhenya laughs. A hockey god pretty as an archangel, but as secretly dorky as Zhenya is. He can’t believe his luck. He dares to lean over the table and kiss Sidney’s cheek, and is rewarded with another brilliant smile.

 

 

+1 the night before Game Six, Sid calls Zhenya, like he been doing the entire series against Nashville so far. “Gonna win, baby,” Zhenya tells him. “Can feel it. Already have ideas for cake.” Sid laughs softly but Zhenya can read the tension in it. He wishes that the team wasn’t at a different hotel than the families, that he could hold Sid in his arms tonight. Whatever happens, the Final series will be over soon. He can wait a little longer. “Love you,” he murmurs to Sid, and he still thrills to hear Sid’s sleepy echo of the words.

“Thank you,” Sidney says, and then doesn’t say what for until Zhenya prods. “For being so good to me,” is the answer. Zhenya aches to kiss him all over and show him just how good he is for  _Zhenya_ , but there will be time for that later.

“Easy to love, Sid,” Zhenya says. “Most easy.”

They exchange a little more of the murmured nonsense they always say to each other when they’re far apart and as tired as they are now. After they hang up, Zhenya lays his phone on the hotel nightstand, right next to the little velvet box he’s brought all the way to Tennessee with him. A ring for Sid, whatever tomorrow’s outcome.

Zhenya turns off the light, and goes to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Un beta'd. 
> 
> title is from "Sweet Disposition," by The Temper Trap
> 
> You can find me as [creaturesofnarrative ](http://creaturesofnarrative.tumblr.com/) (main) and [knifeshoeoreofight](http://knifeshoeoreofight.tumblr.com/) (hockey blog, where I'm most active) on Tumblr, and as @RainyForecast on Twitter. Come say hi


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